Another Craig Bay Interlude

The creative juices aren't flowing.  I have eagle photos and eagle stories but that spark of inspiration that enables me to pull them together has been elusive.  I'm not a disciplined writer who sits at the desk at the same time each day and pounds out words on the keyboard.  More often, I wake up with the words just flowing from me, or I'm out walking and the story swirls around in my head.  I just can't write on demand.  So, one day, you will get to read the story and see the photos of the eagles - or many stories of many eagles - but as I haven't blogged for awhile I shall just post some photos of our wander through Craig Bay Heritage Park from a couple of days ago.  

We love this park because it is quiet, level, alongside the ocean, lightly forested, grassy, with pockets of wildflowers that change weekly.  And it is never, ever busy. In fact, many times we don't see a soul.  Peaceful is the singular word that describes it.  

A light breeze blows the tall grasses as we stroll through the trees.

Maggie stops for a rest near the wild rose bushes that line the shore.

Closer picture of the roses.

And closer still.

I spy splashes of red amid the grasses.

Oriental poppies! One of my favourite flowers, so big and bright. 

Maggie posing near a mass of daisies.

Some crows were hopping around us and making a racket. 
I soon spotted why - Junior had just fledged!

Mama and Papa Crow were encouraging him to fly, but he just wanted them to feed him.
After we moved further away, they indulged him with a bug or two.

Maggie, pose for me!
Not now, Mama, I's napping!

Fooled ya!

And, as it will likely be Father's Day by the time you see this, Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.  My own dad passed away nearly 45 years ago, and I miss him still.  This is one of my favourite photos of him, doing one of the things we enjoyed doing together when I was just a kid:

My dad - always loved, never forgotten. 
Happy Father's Day in the Great Beyond, Dad. 

Happy Maggie at the Park

 Don't ask me how the restoration work and insurance stuff is coming.  Just don't.  Instead, let's enjoy these photos of a happy dog, a beautiful setting, and a bunny.  Maggie and I go out to a park most days, in addition to our little neighbourhood walks.  Today we went to Rathtrevor, which we haven't been to for quite awhile.  We traipsed around the trails furthest from the campers and majority of walkers, and had a thoroughly nice time. 

This is a big tree, Mama! 

Bunny - one of many. We saw chocolate ones, black ones, peachy coloured ones, and brown ones with white tails.  I'll never understand why people dump their pet rabbits in the wild. 

Checking out the interesting smells along a lovely trail

Maggie's favourite spot - a dozen or more stumps just the right height for jumping on and for leaping from one to the other.  She can'd do quite as many as she used to, but she sure remembered what to do.  Such a happy girl! 

Hello from Maggie!

 Hello there!  Good morning!  Happy Spring!  My mama's been doing a lot of posts about hikes, so I just wanted to make sure you don't forget your real reason for following her blog - the critters!  Okay, more accurately, critter. Singular.  Just little ol' me.

When she began this blog eons ago, there were a whole big bunch of animals - lotsa dogs and a cat and a bunch of piggies and an alpaca.  Now there's just me.  Do you think she should change the name of the blog?  Or does 'critters' include the birds and otters and sea lions and other wild things she sometimes posts photos of? I dunno.

Anyway, these are a few photos from our walk in Craig Bay Park on Thursday.  It was a nice sunny day.  We saw an eagle.  And the eagle's nest. That's one huuuu-mungous nest! Two dozen shelties could fit in there, I betcha.  If it weren't waaay up high in a tree. 

I sat on the grass whenever anyone else or their dog came by.  I always do that.  Everyone says I have nice manners. (Well, except when I bark like crazy when someone comes to the house. Then I'm just annoying.....whatever that means.  I'm just protecting my mama!). 

If you came to visit me I would let you come to the park with us.  We could sit on this bench and watch the herons and ducks and eagles.  I'd like that. You would too, I bet!

I hopes you haz a nice day!

Love, Maggie. 

A Sunny Day, by Maggie

Hi Everyone, it's me, Maggie.  Again.  My mama has gone hiking and left me allllll alone.  The nice neighbour person will come get me  in a couple of hours and take me home to her place, but until then I'm alllll alone.  So I figured I'd post some photos Mama took yesterday when we went to Craig Bay Heritage Park.  We likes that place a lot.  And it was a bootiful sunny day.  This time, we drove to the far side so I wouldn't hafta walk down the hilly trail to reach the best part,  as I has a sore paw.  The far end borders on a pretty neighbourhood with walkways and waterways and little bridges and everything running through it.  

Mama says if we wins the lottery we will buy a place here.  I told her she has to buy a ticket to win a lottery.  Hahahahaha.  

Anyways, we took a moment to enjoy the reflections in the pond or lagoon or stream or whatever it is that runs through the development and then turned to meander across the fields to our usual path along the bay.  

The mountains across the sea has lots of snow on them still.

But no snow here.  It was green and sunny and spring-like. We saw a lovely little patch of deep purple crocuses - much deeper than the pale ones at the other end of the park, the ones we showed you the other day. 

I wanted to go down on the sandy beach to jump over logs and jump up on logs and walk along logs and pose on logs, but Mama said we couldn't.  There wasn't a sign to say we couldn't but Mama thinks this is still part of the protected wildlife area  that is closed for Brant geese migration, and besides she said I couldn't get sand in my sore paw.

See my sore paw?  I'z got a bandage and a sock on it, but my sock got a bit dirty walking through the fields. 

It's sore because I got a flare up of that furry uncle thing .....wait.....it's a big word.....let me go look in Mama's file cabinet for my medical records....Dang, Mama's files are a mess.......dah-dum-dah-dum-da-dum oh - here it is! I haz inter-digital fur-un-cul-osis.  See, furry uncul. Told ya.  It's an autoimmune thing, whatever that means.  All I know is the spaces between my toes and around my pads gets really, really sore and cracked and infected sometimes. And then I hasta get my feets wiped a lot with some special cloths, and ointment on them, and bandages and socks.  And sometimes I hasta wear a soft cone of shame so I don't chew my sock and pull it off. 

Anyway, enough about that.  I tried to pose on the area above the beach but the sun was in my eyes so I is squinting.  But it's no big deal because you saw this view before, in the last post or maybe a couple a posts ago. I always sits here to pose. 

So, what else?  Hmmm.  I think that's about all the photos Mama took yesterday.  And I think I hear the neighbour's door opening which means she's coming to get me so I can spend the rest of the day keepin' her company and lying on her couch wiv her.  So I better go.  Mama will probably have some photos from her hike in a day or two.  Won't she be surprised to see I wrote this while she was gone?!

Love, yer pal Maggie. xxoooxx

Fog meets Sun, and a bit of rain.

 Maggie and I meandered through the community park towards the beach, cloaked in thick fog.  By the time we reached the beach, the sun was fighting for dominion, and it was quite the battle. During the couple of hours we were down there, we saw fog roll in and recede many times, we saw treetops appear and disappear, blue skies streaked with dark and light clouds, fine mist and a few sprinkles of rain and all shades of light and dark. It made for a lovely adventure and some interesting photos. 

Treetops emerging from fog

Sun battles dark clouds and fog

Sun takes the lead

Maggie watching the weather battle.  Or not. 

Fog rolling in again

A little rain and wind to spice things up

Sun and fog and damp sidewalk
make for a silhouetted walker.

Spring will be here soon.  It will.  It will. Cheer on the sun!

The Beach in Winter

 The snow has gone, and with it the frigid temperatures. But it is still winter - a west coast winter of gloomy dark days, drizzling rain, and fog.  I've never liked this time of year - the gloom feels as oppressive in winter as heat and humidity do in summer.  Anyone know of a place with just two seasons - spring and fall? That would be my Utopia. 

But at least gloom and drizzle and fog don't stop us from getting outside, and so Maggie and I spent a couple of hours on the beach today.  In winter, the low daytime tides are still high, and the high tides even higher.  The only really low tides seem to occur in the wee small hours.  And so there's not lots of sand to roam, nor herons fishing nor eagles feeding.  Maggie, however, doesn't much care - to her, the beach in winter is about logs, and ducks, and time with her mama. And as usual, she likes to stop and pose for the camera.

We took some time to watch the ducks, first those paddling around solo, grazing as they go:

And then those illustrating the cliché "getting your ducks in a row":

While I played with the camera, Maggie settled beside me to keep watch on the people and dogs wandering the boardwalk.  

They better stay up there - this is mah beach!

And the crows - gotta make sure none of those crows sneak up on us.  You know what a whole lot of crows are called, don't you? A murder of crows!  Maggie has feelings about that! Fortunately, this crow was more interested in whatever tidbit they had found than in murdering us.  

But soon the crow's friends had all gathered in the tree above, 

And Maggie decided it was time to move on. 

Don't ya think we shoulds leave now, Mama?

You know, just in case. 

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

This quote from Dickens kept popping into my mind this past week - every phrase so perfect for a description of our world in 2020.  As we once again came to the end of one year and the beginning of another, there were likely many who say 'good riddance' to 2020, who think of it as the worst year of their lives.  And for some, perhaps it was - those who lost loved ones, those who suffered unbearable economic hardship, those who are exhausted from caring for others in hospitals and homes.  

But before we frame 2020 as a year of strife - political strife, racial strife, pandemic strife, personal strife - let's not lose sight of the good that it brought.   Household members spent more time together, parents played with and taught their children, kids spent more time with siblings, neighbours helped neighbours. Employers found ways to accommodate customers and employees, while keeping them safe; and communities showed appreciation for essential workers in health care and trucking and essential retail services.  Beyond Covid, we saw increased awareness of and activism around racism, and consciousness-raising on the fragility of democracy as our southern neighbours faced one of the toughest political fights in history. 

Let us not lose sight of  ways in which we have grown as individuals - reading more, learning new online skills, thinking outside the box in order to celebrate virtually with others, being able to give and to receive with graciousness and understanding, doing things we may not like (like cancelling travel plans or wearing masks) for the greater good of the community.  

On a personal level, I had to cancel a long-overdue trip to the States to visit my daughter. It was scheduled for just days after the March 2020 border lockdown.  But the rest of March, and the rest of spring and summer, afforded me some amazing hiking adventures on our relatively covid-free (at that time) island.  Looking through my photos, I see I hiked at least thirty different trails and parks that spring and summer, several of them new to me and more challenging than I had done for some years. 

And, perhaps because of cleaner air due to less traffic, or perhaps because being in nature is such a wonderful antidote to Covid restrictions, I saw dozens of plants and birds that I hadn't seen before or had seen only rarely and spotted wee familiar creatures too.

It seemed like we saw barred owls almost every hike this spring and summer! 

A cute little mouse nibbles at some seeds

We saw lots more red-breasted sapsuckers this year too.

This was a first for me - Gnome Plant!

Turkey Tail fungi

My favourite and rarest sighting was a wee little Northern pygmy owl - no more than 6 or 7 inches tall - perched in a tree on the top of Little Mountain, near home.  They are one of the most elusive birds on the island, and 'blue listed'  (meaning of special concern).  

The tiny Northern Pygmy Owl.
What you see on the branch beside him is an "owl pellet" - regurgitated dinner.

And while I was photographing him, I heard the beautiful strains of violin music drifting through the trees, acoustics enhanced by the steep cliffs framing the valley below and the hills that rose on the other side.  I followed the sound, and to my surprise there was a young man taking violin lessons on the top of a cliff.  I couldn't resist sneaking a couple of shots as I listened to the amazing sound:

With Eldercollege and Art Classes cancelled  (online courses hold no appeal to me), I had more 'downtime' - to bake, to read, to walk, to wander the beach, to sort and tidy, to reflect.  Despite the fact that most of my pre-covid obligations were self-imposed (like classes or organizations which I chose to join), it was a relief to be free of such obligations, to have fewer decisions to make, and thus to enjoy - for a while - a smaller world. 

And that smaller world came with many  more surprises.  As I wandered my city, using both familiar routes and discovering new ones,  I learned so much that I didn't know about my own neighbourhood - oases of beauty, snippets of history. I found a 'rain garden' next to the firehall, complete with signage explaining its significance.  I saw a flourishing community garden beside a walkway I'd never explored.  I read about the history of our Arts Centre and the origins of the huge trees along Memorial Avenue.  I spent time in the Arboretum, learning about the many varieties of trees planted there.  I explored back lanes, dead end streets, and walkways that provided glimpses in interesting back yards. 

I saw baby quail race after their mother along a walkway that I hadn't known existed.  I watched spring burst forth, fearing nothing, sending flora and fauna out in the neighbourhoods, the yards, the lanes, the forests.  I saw doe and twin fawns check out the front porch of a house down the road, and baby bunnies nibble greens along the pathways.  I heard the call of the eagles that nest near a ravine alongside some little-used steps off a rocky section of beach, heard Northern flickers pound their mating call on the metal electrical box near our complex, watched murmurations of sandpipers flash their white bellies as they moved from tidal pool to tidal pool on the beach. 

Mama quail keeping an eye on me
after shepherding her babies into the brush.

Maggie benefitted from our city, beach, and park walks too - not just physically, but mentally as she increased her repertoire of parkour skills, jumping higher than I would believe possible, learning to weave around empty parking lot posts or hop from stump to stump and log to log in a local park.  She strengthened her back legs while challenging her brain and conquering some of her anxieties. 

There's lots for dogs to do on a city walk besides peeing and sniffing!

Hey, look at me Mama! 

Pffft 
It must have been 'Tongue Out Tuesday'

On our walks I saw and heard evidence of  a caring community - a table in front of a house offering free food for those in need, a tub of apples at the end of a driveway,  tributes to our essential workers through hearts in windows and  noise making at 7 PM and signs at intersections reading "We see you, we thank you, we appreciate you!" 

As our world grew smaller, neighbours in my 22-unit complex became closer.  We helped each other with errands to reduce exposure to strangers in stores, we started a monthly newsletter (to which I am a contributor - back to the world of writing!), we had physically-spaced garden parties (when that was permitted) and celebrated each person's birthdays.  Our oldest resident, who turned 90, received a visit from the firefighters - their gift to the city was to drive by with siren and lights for children's and senior's birthdays.

More downtime meant more time for following the news and reading background material to better understand racism, to critically analyze political issues, to reflect on the trajectory our world seemed to be taking - both positive and negative. And it meant learning to recognize when I felt stressed from information-overload, when it was time to shut down the computer, to turn off the TV or radio.  I spent a lot less time online this year than any previous year since the advent of the web.  And I'm thankful for that.  It made for more beach time, more forest time, more new authors to discover, more recipes to try, more sunsets and sunrises.

I love watching the eagles walk - 
they stomp around like "someone's gonna be in trouble"

Watching the birds feeding at low tide is always fascinating.  
This gull is eating a small crab.

Another first for me - an egg yolk jelly! 

And yet another first - squid eggs!

Sunset from my front door

In the fall and on into this winter, some of my outdoor pleasures came to a grinding halt.  An accident while camping ended the fall hiking for my hiking/camping buddy. Then  spiraling covid cases brought in new restrictions to movement outside our communities and reduced the size of our social 'bubble'  from six to just one or two people for those of us who live alone (and no visitors for two or more person households).  Further restrictions on outdoor gatherings put an end to our garden parties.  

But the community still finds ways to connect, to help, to cheer, to appreciate, and Maggie and I are still able to walk around town and on the beach, to visit with one neighbour on either side, to talk to family and friends via phone and internet.  And, yes, I even attempted to 'zoom' with my family on Christmas day - I was able to see and hear them, but they could not see me as my computer apparently doesn't have the right video program. Blech - I still hate technology. But I tried.  I miss my friends and family, and Maggie does too.

No more walks with Pat and the Poms for the moment -
they live in a different community from Maggie and me.

And so we move into a new year, still restricted by covid, still concerned about global political struggles,  still aware of the ever-present social inequalities in our world, still missing friends and family and hikes beyond my community.  But spring is but a few weeks away.  Spring, who cannot be contained or quarantined.  Spring, who will provide an everchanging kaleidoscope of colour, making each walk an adventure.  Spring - a promise of the future, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of winter. 

These are from last spring's walks.....but it won't be long before we see them again.

 And with hard work and cooperation and wise leadership, our world will emerge from covid restrictions and covid deaths, from political mayhem and violence and fear, and keep the best of what they've learned and experienced,  while leaving behind the worst of it.  We shall enter this new year eager for new opportunities, new possibilities, filled with new hope for the future.

Let's go with that.  Hope. Possibilities.   New Beginnings. We can make the Best of times out of these Worst of times.  We can do it. 

Chalk drawing in a local parking lot when the first wave of covid hit the island.

Stay safe, my friends, and stay positive.  Happy New Year.